Sunday, December 25, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
- Top ten snacks to eat while on deadline (this ended up reading like an article for Fitness magazine. Until I got to the cookies, anyway)
- Top ten movies to watch while on deadline (the real answer to this is: “Zero. Put down the remote and get your butt back to the keyboard.”)
- The best ten deserts I’ve ever eaten (Not a bad idea... but it’s not like you could run out and eat these yourselves, so it’s not super helpful either)
- Top ten hot environmental activists (okay, I was going to have to research this one, ‘cause my current list only has like two guys on it, but I’m sure I could find eight more)
- Top ten words I misspell every damn time I type them (I told you some of these ideas were real stinkers!)
- Ten movies I wish I’d seen this year (Well, I didn’t see them, so I don’t have anything clever to say about them)
- Ten movies you couldn’t pay me to see (see above)
- Top ten embarrassing conversations I’ve overheard at the gym (Let me tell you, this blog would be looong. Like, I could write a novel about the crazy crap I’ve overheard at the gym. Hmm ....)
- Ten ways to waste time on the internet (If you need someone to give you a list of ways to waste time on line, you’re an idiot. Some things should just come naturally.)
- Top Ten songs of teenage rebellion/angst (Okay, this list has huge potential. It could It could be great, or it could be horrible and make me look old. I mean, it’s not like I would include Elvis songs or anything, but still ...)
Thursday, December 15, 2011
It's no secret that the Summer series from Jenny Han were hands down my favorite books so far this year. Tracy and I have phone sessions as least once a week dissecting the nuances of these books and why we loved them so much.
But, much as I loved them I need something new to fawn over so, tell me your favorite book of the year, whether bestseller or little known gem, and why it should be my new favorite, too, and you're entered to win the daily, weekly and grand prize giveaway
We should be back to our regularly scheduled Smooch Stops tomorrow. Sorry for the hiccups.
|Jenny and me at the Austin Teen Book Festival|
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Thanks to everyone who's been following us and for entering.
Chey is the winner of our Week 2 Prize bundle!!
Keep visiting us--we've got lots more to give away!
Sunday, December 4, 2011
All Aboard! It's week #2 on our Around the World in 80 Kisses Blog Tour and Contest.
To kick off this week we're at My Reading Room for Smooch Stop #7. Come have a visit and remember to leave a comment (with your email) to be entered for our daily, weekly and grand prize Kindle Fire.
Scroll down for all the contest info and rules and how to join our Smooch Club.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
- Leave a comment on the daily Smooch Stop at the hosting blog (a link will be posted here each day or click on the banner below for complete tour info courtesy of Teen Book Scene)
- Be sure to leave your email address in your comment (so we can let you know when you win*).
- You can enter once per Smooch Stop and your comment automatically enters you for the daily, weekly, and grand prize.
- All entries are cumulative toward the weekly and grand prize, so be sure to enter every day for more chances to win.
- Like our Facebook page (1 entry) and/or post on our wall (1 entry per day)
- Tweet about IKC and the contest (Click to Tweet here) or create your own tweet using #intlkissingclub (1 entry per day)
- Join our Smooch Club for more ways to earn entries
Monday, November 28, 2011
Also click here to tweet for an additional entry.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
"It's easy," Guiran told her, balancing on his skateboard like he'd been born with it beneath his feet. "All you have to do is trust yourself not to fall."
Mei snorted. "Sorry, but I put my trust in Sir Isaac Newton and a little thing called gravity. There's no way you're going to talk me into getting on that thing. I'll kill myself."
"Come on. Give it a try." His grin was huge, infectious, but Mei refused to let it get to her. She'd come to China to find her birth parents, no play around on a four-wheeled death trap with a cute guy.
Not that there's any reason I can't do both, a little voice in the back of her head whispered. Mei ignored it. She was only going to be here for another month.
Guiran boarded ahead a little, then did a one-eighty, with lots of air, before landing a couple of feet in front of her.
"Come on, Mei. Just try it once. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."
Against all odds, and her better judgment, Mei felt herself relenting. "Is it really so important to you that I get on your stupid skateboard?"
"Because you look like you've just lived through the most miserable six weeks of your life. I think you could use a little fun."
"Playing guitar is fun. Shopping is fun. Acing a test is really fun. Getting on that death trap, not so much."
"Fine. Tell me the last time you did any of those things and I'll leave you alone."
"I'll have you know I bought a very nice belt a few weeks ago," she answered.
"Wow. A belt. Big spender," he teased.
"I play guitar every day," she said.
"Okay, then. What I meant was, when was the last time you tried something new?"
When she didn't immediately answer, Guiran's smile grew wider. "See, you need a challenge. That's what keeps life interesting." He stepped off the skateboard. "Try it. If you don't have fun, I promise I won't ask again."
She wasn't sure if she was happy about that promise or not--she had gotten to the point that her time with Guiran was the complete highlight of her day, so much so that she found herself watching the clock--and the grounds outside her dorm room window--at least an hour before he was supposed to show up. The practical side of Mei was a little worried about her dependence on him. After all, it was never good to put all your eggs in one basket, and if this friendship didn't work out between them, then she'd be totally screwed. Without his wicked good translating skills, she didn't know if she was ready to tackle the four and a half hours of public transportation required to get from Shenyang to Dalian. China had seemed smaller when she was back home, planning her trip.
At the same time, though, the impractical side of herself--the one that dreamed of running off with a rock band instead of going to MIT--refused to be concerned. Guiran was a good guy, it told her. She should just relax and enjoy the time she got to spend with him.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Tanner Colt: local football god and all around good ol' boy. Izzy has known him for years and they've never gotten along. Plus, he dates Germaine Stewart, the queen bitch of Paris High. But with all of Izzy's friends studying abroad, Tanner turns out to be the one bright spot of the semester. He gets her a job working at his parent's farm, which is better than working at Dairy Queen, even if she has to learn to drive a tractor. Tanner just might be Izzy's one friend in left in Paris. But could he be more?
“Oh, do you need to sit here?”
“No. You’re good.” He reached across her. She plastered herself back against the seat, but there was barely enough room and his shoulder brushed against her chest. “Here’s the other end of the seat belt.”
She stared blankly at him as he straightened and handed her the buckle. When was he going to get out of the cab? She swallowed hard, then took the canvas belt he dangled in front of her. “Safety first,” she said faintly.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“What about you?” She didn’t glance over her shoulder as she asked the question, already keenly aware of how close he was.
Tanner stood just behind her, wedged into between her seat and the roll bar. Despite the cramped quarters, he managed to stretch out, filling every extra centimeter of space. He voice dropped a notch, to a husky murmur that had melted hearts all over Paris High. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Good thing one of them did.
He pointed to the right side of the steering wheel. “Ignition is right there. You’ll want to turn the key counterclockwise for a few seconds first, to let it warm up. Then clockwise. Just like starting a car.”
She followed his instructions, trying not to notice how good Tanner smelled. Fresh and clean. Like he bathed in catnip for girls. Most of the football players at her house either smelled like sweaty locker room floor or like they’d drenched themselves in cologne. Or worse, some combination of the two. But not Tanner. He smelled like clean soap and line-dried clothes.
She drew in a deep breath and—
“What was that?” he asked.
All she could do was stare blankly in reply.
“You seemed like you were about to say something.”
“Oh.” Shit. What was she supposed to say? No, I was just smelling you? “Is that long enough?” she asked instead, looking back to meet his eyes.
He hesitated. Like he could read her thoughts or something. Then he shook his head. “Sure. Go ahead and start it up.”
She cranked the key in the ignition and the beast hummed to life.
“From here on out”––He leaned even closer to be heard over of the roar––“it’s just like driving your standard.”
She settled her foot onto the clutch. The pedal felt huge. Spongier. This wasn’t like driving her standard. It seemed bigger. More dangerous.
She pressed down hard and felt the gears line up. The gearshift was directly in front of her seat, right between her legs. Just as she reached down to settle her hand over it, Tanner leaned in and put his hand on top of hers. He had one arm resting across the back of her seat and the other practically draped across her left thigh.
“Here’s first.” He moved both their hands together as he shifted through the gears. “Here’s second. Third, forth. And here’s reverse.” This one was down and to the far right, so that his knuckles brushed against the inside of her denim-clad right thigh. “You feel that?”
Was he joking? She swallowed hard. “Pardon?”
“The reverse is a little tricky on this old girl.” He gave the gearshift another wiggle. “You’ve got to work to get it in.”
She jerked her hand out from under his, moving so fast her foot slipped, so she popped the clutch and killed the engine. “I think I’ve got it.”
He leaned back; a slow smile broke across his face. “Looks like you do.”
She narrowed her gaze to a glare.
“You want to try it again?” he asked, that smug grin of his never leaving his face.
Her heart was pounding and her hands sweaty. What the hell was going on? This was Tanner Colt. Tanner! He was not supposed to make her feel this strange mixture of...
But her mind shied away from admitting she felt anything. This was all just standard I’m-a-football-god charm. He wasn’t flirting with her. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. Which should have made her feel better, but it didn’t at all.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
There are a couple of really exciting moments in the life of an author.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Nationality: French, of course ;)
Occupation: Art student at the Sorbonne/Sculptor
For a second, Sebastian only stared at her, a puzzled look on his face. Just when she was starting to regret her honesty-- what guy liked thinking a girl was interested in kissing him because of a competition?-- he threw back his head and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
He laughed so hard and long that she stiffened, a little offended. But he reached for her hand and finally managed to get himself under control. "You Americans ... always competing. Always wanting to have more, more, more. Don't you realize that the best things in lif are about quality, not quantity?"
"Nothing But don't you know, just like in art, you ned to master one technique before you move on to the next?" He entwined his long, calloused fingers with her own and Piper couldn't believe how right it felt to be standing there, letting him hold her hand.
"So tell me, Piper," Sebastian said after a moment. "If I kiss you right now, will that be enough? Or will you kiss me back and then go to a club and kiss some other guy tomorrow?"
She couldn't breate, couldn't think. Could brely stand upright as heat streaked along ever nerve ending she had. "We could-- we could try it." Was that really her voice, that high-pitched squeak that practically broke the sound barrier?
"Oh, cherie, we're going to do a lot more than try." His hands trembled a little as they cupped her face, which surprised her even as it made her intensely happy. And then he kissed her and it was more amazing, more delicious, more real than any and every kiss that had come before it.
So, what do you think????????
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Sophie Jordan spoke last night at our local writer's meeting. Though I'd met Sophie a couple of times over the years (since we're both Texas authors ... you just sort of run into each other occasionally), I've never read one of her books. However, I'd heard great things about Firelight, her 2010 YA. It's been on my Kindle since the summer, but other things were in the queue first (Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging) or came so heavily recommended by Tracy (Lola and the Boy Next Door) that they could not be ignored. Both of those other books were totally charming, btw.